


The Fox And The Hound

by gracie137



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, F/M, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Prince Castiel, Rebel Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/pseuds/gracie137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Like we’re spies and we’ve got our own secret code! We’re definitely best friends now.” Dean gushed nodding eagerly, his face only falling slightly this time as Castiel’s tutor called for him again.<br/>“Best friends?”<br/>“Forever.” Dean nodded holding his hand out for Castiel to shake, because that would make it official.<br/>“Forever,” Castiel repeated taking Dean’s hand that strange little smile reappearing.<br/>“Bye Cas,” he grinned jumping up and dusting off his clothes.<br/>“Good bye Dean,” Castiel smiled softly before hurrying after the sound of the voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Yeah I'll add to this as it goes on.
> 
> Hey this is a story I was encourage to write by my friend, well it was orginally going to be J2 but I couldn't think of anything to write where as this plot just came to me. So I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> disclaimer: Supernatural is the property of Eric Kripke and The CW. I have sprinkled canon lines throughout the fic in addition to the ones quoted in the chapter epitaphs. I do not own any of them.

>   
>  _Big Mama: Tod, that Copper is going to come back a hunting dog, a real killer._   
>  _Tod: Oh no, not my friend Copper. He won't ever change._   
>  _Big Mama: I hope you're right._   
>  _Tod: And we'll keep on being friends forever. Right, Big Mama?_   
>  _Big Mama: Darling, forever is a long, long time, and time has a way of changing things._   
> 

Dean pulled the small knife from his boot as he walked along the forest floor darting between the trees as he continued the game he was playing in his head. He was the rebel commander and he was on a mission to capture the Princess from the castle and take her back to the camp to make a real stand against the king. The people would thank him and love him, and he would be the ruler of all.

He slipped behind a tree at the sound of a voice but kept walking once he knew all was safe, he knew he was getting dangerously close to the castle now but temptation and the new sense of freedom. He knew that he would be punished if anyone especially his dad found out that he was this far from camp when he had said he was going to go gather fire wood. But it wasn’t like he was going to get caught anyway, he was better than that.

He came to an area where a cluster of large oak trees with green leaves with orange tints starting to form around the edges. Walking over to the nearest one, he tugged on a low branch laughing in amusement as it pinged back up and he had to jump out the way to avoid being hit. He lent on it and grinned contently upon discovering it could hold his weight. He reached up for the second branch and then easily scaled the large tree laughing happily to himself, as he climbed higher, and higher in the late summer’s warm air.  
Dean would never admit it to anyone but he was glad to have been able to escape from his dad’s intensive training program for just a second; he wasn’t treated like the other kids that grew up in camp were, he didn’t get to muck around and play fight with wooden swords. His dad taught him how to work a knife, how to fight, he was getting solider training which in his mind was way cooler, all the other kids were jealous of him. They all wished John Winchester was their father. They all wanted to be soldiers too.

John was training Dean up to take over the rebel camp from him if he died. Dean knew that, but he also knew his dad would never die, he was invincible. The best solider out there, no one could defeat him and no one ever would.

Dean froze when he heard a twig snap on the ground beneath him, his senses on edge as he glanced around slowly re-pulling the dagger from his boot. His body was rigid and tensed the same way an animals is when looking for a predator. His green eyes fell on a small cloaked figure walking over to the tree next door and curling up beneath the tree, the figure’s head was bowed causing the already seemingly too large cloak to cover any remaining bit of visible skin on their face.

He slid back down the tree shifting his weight to land just on the right part of each branch so it wouldn’t creek. The dagger was still clutched in one hand silently as he manoeuvred down until he was perched just about the figure’s head observing and debating what to do. He was too young to be considered a threat if he was spotted and his age also meant that he wasn’t on the Wanted posters stuck up all over the towns and villages as he had yet to be deployed on any of the missions. The figure seemed small enough that Dean could take him if necessary, but he didn’t want to have to fight him. He wanted a friend.

He swallowed softly and sat there a little more his brain arguing with itself about what to do. Should he flee as he had been trained to do in a situation like this or just talk to the hooded figure. It couldn’t go that wrong. Finally he made up his mind and planted his courage.

“Hey,” he grinned swinging his legs over the branch and looking down at the figure. It couldn’t hurt right? And he just wanted a friend after all, someone to talk to.  
The figure jumped violently causing the brown hood to fall revealing a shock of dark hair, “You scared me!” The young voice came accusingly as the small boy turned and glared up at Dean.

He smirked in reply and shrugged, “Scaredy cat.” He teased slipping the knife back into his boot and jumping off the branch landing on his feet gracefully. His eyes glittering in amused challenge as he watched the boy daring him almost to react.

“Am not!” The boy replied sulkily standing up and puffing out his chest as a peacock does to try seem larger, the sight of this caused another snort to be released from Dean as the guy in front of him was weedy as hell.

“Are too,” Dean shot back crossing his arms and smirking as he tilted his chin up asserting his authority even more.

“Not!”

“Are,” Dean sung teasingly laughing as the boy stomped his foot in frustration.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” the boy scowled glaring at him, his blue eyes flashing in anger.

“I can talk to you however I want.”

“No you can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“My brother punished someone for speaking out of line to him.” Dean frowned at the boy’s words and pulled a face.

“Your brother’s a douche bag,” he replied simply before contemplating for a second and sending the boy a friendly grin. “Do you wanna play hide and seek?”

“With you?”

“No, with the rabbit over there,” he replied sarcastically rolling his eyes in amusement. The boy opened his mouth to reply but he decided to cut him off realising that this guy probably didn’t get sarcasm that well. “Yes with me.”

The boy paused for a second before his small mouth curled up slightly at the sides, “Yes, I would like that.” He nodded thoughtfully before glancing up and meeting Dean’s eyes. “I’m Castiel.” Dean couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose when he heard the name; it was a bit of a mouthful and strange. He’d never heard a name like it, apart from the Royals of course. They had some weird as hell names.

“I’m Dean, nice to meet you Cas,”

“It’s Castiel, not Cas.” Castiel corrected with a small sigh as if Dean was an idiot.

Dean rolled his eyes, “It’s a nickname silly it’s what people give their friends.”

“Oh,” was all Castiel replied his mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape before he did that weird smile thing were only the corners of his mouth tugged up again. “No one has ever changed my name before.”

“Well I’m calling you Cas, so like it or lump it.” Dean shrugged before a wicked grin grew on his face before reaching over and tagging Castiel causing the small guy to jolt slightly at the touch. “You’re up!” He shouted before dancing off behind a tree to find Castiel still staring at him his head tilted in confusion. “You’re cheating! You can’t look!” He protested shaking his head.

“Oh,” Castiel said quietly his face screwing up as he scrunched his eyes shut. “When can I open them?” He asked after a while, Dean let out a groan of frustration this was ridiculous. How did Cas not know the rules of hide and seek? It easier playing this with Sammy who was four.

“You count to ten durh,”

“Oh,” there was a pause again. “Should I start now?”

“Yes!” Dean groaned again before letting out a frustrated laugh and scampering up the tree leaning around watching his bizarre new friend count to ten slowly and steadily. He was nothing like any of the kids who lived at the camp, they never played properly. They would squint through their eyes or count really really fast, so would he though so he couldn’t get too angry.

“I’m done Dean, now what?” Dean remained silent but hit his head against the tree and tried to muffle a laugh as he watched Castiel walk about in confusion his head tilted again. “Dean, I do not understand, where have you gone? Dean what is the point in this game?” He stayed up in the tree snickering to himself uncontrollably now as the younger boy grew ever more confused. “Dean! Dean where are you?” Finally unable to control himself anymore a loud snort of laughter escaped him and Castiel’s head shot up, “What are you doing up there Dean? Why did you ignore me?” He asked softly his bottom lip quivering as if he were about to cry.

“Cause its hide and seek Cas, I was hiding and you were meant to find me. Have you never played?” He asked curiously swinging down from the tree and landing on his feet a cat like grin on his face as he watched Castiel in amusement.

“No, I’m too busy with lessons to play games such as this,” Castiel responded softly pulling something out the pocket of his cloak for Dean to see. It was a book, and a really nice looking one at that. Dean’s mouth dropped in awe.

“You can read?” He asked the envy creeping into his voice as he leaned forward and grabbed the blue book leafing through the pages. “This must’ve cost a fortune Cas! It’s got gold on it look!” He gasped pointing at the gold writing that gave him a head ache to look out, he couldn’t read. Few people in camp could read, only Bobby and Missouri could and that’s as they had to. “How long did your parents have to save up to buy this?”

“I do not know it was in our library. My tutor Naomi recommended it to me, it is about the history of the kingdom.” Castiel said informatively, in such a manner that it sounded as if he was reading exactly what to say off a sheet of paper.

“You have a library?” Dean asked his mouth hitting the floor as he handed the book back.

“Do you not?” Castiel asked confused as if it was normal for him to have a library that was filled with golden edged books, which it wasn’t.

“No,” Dean muttered looking away scowling slightly pulling his knife out of his book and starting to carve the piece of wood in the way he’d seen his dad so often do.

“Oh perhaps you could see mine some time.”

Dean perked his head up at the offer before shaking it and a mocking laugh escaped his lips, “No way, that’s for nerds.” He scorned glancing away quickly as he watched Castiel’s face fall, he stabbed his newly sharpened stick into the ground and looked around trying to think of something to change the subject. “Do you wanna play another game of hide and seek?” He asked sending Cas a comforting smile in which he hoped read ‘I’m sorry for being a jerk.’ “You can hide this time,” he offered poking his friend in the ribs teasingly.

“Okay,” Castiel said nodding softly, and Dean shot him another smile to show him it was all okay.

“Now go hide you goof,” he teased giving Castiel a shove and squeezing his eyes shut as he started to count out loud.

________________________________________________________________

 

“Castiel! Castiel where are you?” Dean’s head jerked up from where he was sat leaning against the tree trying to teach Castiel how to play rock, paper, scissors, it was hard. A forlorn look etched itself into Castiel’s face as his heard turned to follow the voice.

“That’s my tutor Naomi,” he sighed standing up and dusting off his cloak, “I must go now Dean.” Dean pulled a face and groaned rolling over on the ground emerging with a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

“Do you have to?” He whined and Castiel nodded in response. “Why?” He pouted crossing his arms and scowling up at him. “We were having fun!”

“Naomi has called, and I must answer.” Castiel repeated falling back into that mono-toned reading off a paper voice he used sometimes that made Dean feel really uncomfortable.

“But you’ll come back right? We can meet here again?”

“Yes, I would like that Dean.”

“Great! We’ll need a system, if you can come leave a white piece of fabric under this rock here, okay?” Dean said pointing to the rock with a the hole in that he had been playing with absent mindely for a while.

“Yes, that sounds like a good plan.”

“Like we’re spies and we’ve got our own secret code! We’re definitely best friends now.” Dean gushed nodding eagerly, his face only falling slightly this time as Castiel’s tutor called for him again.

“Best friends?”

“Forever.” Dean nodded holding his hand out for Castiel to shake, because that would make it official.

“Forever,” Castiel repeated taking Dean’s hand that strange little smile reappearing.

“Bye Cas,” he grinned jumping up and dusting off his clothes.

“Good bye Dean,” Castiel smiled softly before hurrying after the sound of the voice.

Dean watched Castiel go before turning around and starting to walk back to camp, his mind not as alert as he had been trained to keep it. His father scolded him when he returned and lying dean promised it wouldn’t happen again. But it would as he wasn’t going without his new secret friend. He didn’t tell anyone about Cas, because he was his secret. Just his. And he knew they would be best friends forever and ever.


	2. Prologue 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I mentioned it before but in the first chapter the boys are 8, and they are 8 in the first half of this too but then become 14. The real story will start next time this again is more into stuff and living up to the title. So enjoy and please let me know what you think.

 

> _“Happy endings must come at the end of something,' the Walrus pointed out. 'If they happen in the middle of a story, or an adventure, or the like, all they do is cheer things up for awhile.”_

 

“Dean, that Castiel is going to come back a Prince one day, a real Royal,” Dean glanced up from where he was scrubbing at the pots and pans, his dad had stuck him on damn cleaning duty for sneaking out today to go see Castiel and it sucked. Missouri was smiling down at him with a sad look on her face as she sat down on the tree stump opposite him and shook her head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean muttered pretending to deny his secret best friend for a bit, he didn’t know how Missouri knew but he supposed she was always going to find out. She knew everything somehow. Dean betted she was magic, though his dad had hit him when he suggested that Missouri was witch. Nasty word John had scolded him before hitting him round the head.

“Don’t play dumb with me boy,” Missouri sighed rolling her eyes at his stubborn behaviour. “I know all about you and your little Prince friend, and I also know it won’t work out.”

Dean scowled at her and stuck his chin up in defiance, “Not Cas, he’s my best friend. He won't ever change.” He said firmly giving up the dumb act and choosing to defend his friend instead.

Missouri sighed again and played with one of the charms around her neck, Dean’s hand automatically went up to his own amulet from Sammy as he watched her. “I hope you're right.”

Dean nodded firmly a grin spreading across his freckled face, “I am, and we'll keep on being friends forever. Right, Missouri?”

“Darling, forever is a long, long time, and time has a way of changing things.” Missouri said a sad look etched on her features as she drew her mystical patterns into the dirt swirling it around creating designs and images that Dean didn’t understand but she appeared to be reading almost.

“You mean Cas is gonna be my enemy?” Dean said in a small quiet voice as Missouri stood up. She sent him a sympathetic look and ruffled his hair in the affectionate fond manner she sometimes did, he couldn’t help but lean into her motherly touch that he so often yearned for.

“Don’t dwell on the future yet young boy, live while you still can and cross that bridge when it arrives.” She cradled his cheek and he stared up at her the dread forming in his heart and a forlorn look on his young features. “Now hurry up with those pots, then come help me in my tent and I’ll give you a treat.” She promised squeezing his cheek and letting out a laugh as Dean nodded eagerly and started to scrub as fast as he could.

**Six years later**

“Winchester!” Dean’s head flew up and he dropped the fire wood tripping over his gangly legs as he heard the older boy’s Gordon’s shout.

“You called?” He replied turning and smirking up at the guy trying to keep as much as his dignity in tack as he gathered up the wood and mock saluted with his spare hand.

He knew it was risky speaking back to the older boy who had quite a few inches on him and muscle power due to no matter how much work Dean seemed to do, he remained the weedy fourteen year boy he really was. It pained him how he looked, he just felt like it disappointed his father to have such a small female looking son. Gordon often ribbed him about his female features and small frame, and there was only so much he could laugh it off. He couldn’t even beat the guy in a fight yet as the muscle power and height difference was just too large still. But he would beat him one day, he would be the best solider around; he hadn’t forgotten that.

“I have been told to inform you that you’re on duty to gather things such as mushrooms, with the young ladies,” Gordon sneered his fingers tapping on the hilt of his sword in a mocking manner. It could look like a simple habit of one who cannot stay still for long but it was obvious that it was supposed to heighten the blow to the embarrassment that came from this job instead of something more suitable for a boy of his age in camp.

Dean forced an easy smile and dropped the firewood on the pile this time and stomped his foot and saluted again, his eyes lighting up in mock amusement which caused the sneer to drop slightly off Gordon’s face, as there wasn’t so much joy in taunting someone who did not respond in the correct manner. “Thanks for delivering the message G,” he nodded, his green eyes sparkling even brighter as Gordon’s face shifted even more at Dean’s use of the irritating nickname. “I shall be right on it, wouldn’t want to keep the lovely ladies waiting after all.” He saluted once more before marching off turning and sending Gordon one last smirk as he ran into the woods.

He stopped running once he was sure he couldn’t be seen any more and kicked the nearest tree with a loud shout of frustration running a hand through his cropped blonde hair with a groan as he stepped away crushing a bank of blue flowers with vibrant green stems as he did.

“I am better than the rest of them; Benny and Victor don’t have to gather mushrooms. They got archery practice, lousy shots the two of them as well,” he muttered angrily to himself, as he walked along kicking anything beautiful and remotely happy looking that dared stray into his path. He was fed up; his dad hadn’t spoken to him since he lost that goddam practice fight they put on. He had yet to develop that bulk that was necessary to overpower all his friends who had already developed it. He had the skill and the speed but there was only so far those two could go without the final aspect of a fighter.

Sammy had the brains as well; he spent whenever he could nerding out with Bobby, he was slowly learning to read from Bobby’s old books that the old man kept stored in his tent. John said it was a worthless talent that wasn’t necessary and Sam should be learning to fight, but Bobby still taught him anyway. The same way he still played catch with Dean when he could, Uncle Bobby said they needed to be kids sometimes. Kids didn’t become Camp Leaders though, good soldiers did.

Castiel had tried to teach Dean to read many a time from one of his fancy smancy books with their odd smelling pages, they weren’t the same as Bobby’s books. Castiel’s ones from the palace library no matter how old they were all appeared the same. They didn’t have the tender loving care that the books around camp often held; the wear and tear of them that showed another story hidden in the pages.

He hadn’t seen his old friend in a while; Castiel had been required to go with his family to visit another Kingdom to sort out the peace. Their King Richard Roman had been playing up and new King Michael had decided one of his first duties was to remove the threat they were holding over the people. Apparently mass killing sprees don’t look good if it’s not the King doing it to his own Kingdom. Also cannibalism is frowned upon by most people and Roman’s new punishment called ‘Bibbing’ was the most disgusting one to ever be created to this day.

Dean continued to walk through the forest his senses trained to be alert even when his head was in the clouds thinking in an absent minded manner. He kept walking past the group of elder oaks that marked his old meeting place, the rock void of a piece of white cloth just as it had been for a couple of months now.

He knew it was risky to even want to be friends with Castiel, he also knew what Castiel’s family did to the people, to his family, to his mom. But Dean had gotten over that as well Castiel was different, he would never do the awful things that his family did to the people of the Kingdom. He wouldn’t. Dean just knew that.

However despite his faith in Castiel, he still hadn’t told anyone at camp about his secret friendship with the Prince as he doubted they would react well, apart from Missouri who as always had somehow known without him telling her, nor had he told Castiel about who his father was either. Everything was against them being friends, apart from the two of them. They would always be friends. Even when they were apart, he just knew it.

His eyes fell on the grey stone castle peeping out through the thinning tree branches. The guards stood in uniform just visible from this distance, the sun glinting off their silver helmets. He wondered what it would be like to feel that knowing you had all these people willing to risk their lives for you by duty, because they had to. Not because they wanted to, not because they cared enough too but because they had to. He’d hate it; that heavy weight on your shoulders of all those lives of people who had died so you could live, he simply wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would crush him alive.

He slipped through the trees in an inconspicuous manner; he after all did look just like another simple village boy well if you didn’t notice the small silver sword that hung by his side of course. He had told Castiel his father was a blacksmith and that is why he had weapons as such, it wasn’t a complete lie as John Winchester had used to be the Village Blacksmith, before the Southern Rebel Camp had in attempt to punish the Royal’s raided the village and his mother and the old shop had burned down in the process. That was all it had taken to get his father into the North Rebel Camp, and fuelled by anger it hadn’t taken long for him to get to the top of it.

“Now I was thinking Uriel that perhaps it would better suited for both of us if we moved training sessions to later on in the week as I am still tired from my trip,” his head snapped up at the voice and he nearly tripped over his feet as he scrambled behind a rock, peering over it a grin spreading over his face at the familiar voice.

“As you wish your Highness,” Dean ignored the other guy who he didn’t know but frankly looked up his own ass as he looked over Castiel. His friend hadn’t grown since he had last seen him but he’d certainly become more muscly, and now his shoulder were broader than Dean’s probably which was just weird to see. He still remembered the scrawny eight year old he’d met that day.

He chewed on his lip wondering how to get his old friend’s attention without the other one noticing. They were close so he decided to go for the typical ingenious plan of waving madly and hoping Castiel noticed. His friend had always had sharp eyes and so sure enough he did. Dean beckoned him over before ducking down behind the rock and hearing Castiel make his excuses to whichever Royal douche he was with before walking over.

“Cas man it’s been too long,” Dean grinned jumping up from where he was sat and pulling Castiel in for a hug, he leaned back in confusion. Castiel hadn’t returned the hug and he was staring at Dean blank faced and emotionless as if he were in court. “What’s wrong Cas?”

“We cannot see each other anymore Dean.”

“What?” Dean spluttered indigently.

“I learnt a lot on my trip to the Leviathan’s with Michael, and one of them is who your real father is Dean. We stand for different things.”

“Your brother’s a douche, and so is my dad sometimes, we can still each other regardless of them,” Dean pleaded stepping closer to Castiel who backed away his face still expressionless like a cold stone tablet. “We’re still friends, right?”

“Dean, those days are over,” Castiel repeated tilting his chin up so they were eye to eye and Dean’s only advantage was removed. Dean caught sight of the simple silver sword that hung in the bejewelled sheath and he frowned. Everything about Castiel was wrong; he was in a rich blue cloak instead of his usual tan one, and his outfit was fitting and tidy instead of crumbled. “I’m a Prince and you’re a rebel, and I don’t want to see you get killed, so I shall let you go this one time.”

“Stop it Cas, we’re best friends, stop it.” Dean whimpered his voice cracking as he looked at the cold, mechanical blue eyed boy in front of him.

“Good bye Dean,” Dean’s hand shot out and he grabbed Castiel’s shoulder turning the boy around to face him, feeling the hard muscle under his palm.

“Cas, please,” was all Dean managed to get out before the man Castiel had called Uriel appeared behind them both causing Dean to jump his heart almost flying straight out his chest. He had no doubt it would have as well, had it not already been crushed by Castiel’s words.

“What is the meaning of this your Highness? Are you associating with a rebel?” Uriel asked a sneer that would rival Gordon’s on his mouth.

“Of course not, I am simply telling him to get off our land before I report him,” Castiel replied simply shattering Dean even more, his hand slipped away from Castiel’s shoulder and he stared at him in a broken manner.

“Why not report him anyway,” Uriel smirked drawing his sword and advancing on Dean, there was no way he could beat him sword on sword. There wasn’t a chance. “Or just kill him anyway,”

“Uriel,”

“Come on Castiel, no one will miss him,” Dean drew his slingshot from where it was tucked into his trousers, and slipped a stone into it holding it up in warning.

“I will shoot,” he promised his green eyes flashing as he glared at Uriel.

“Bring it, peasant.” Uriel spat brandishing his sword. So Dean let it go and the small grey stone soared easily into Uriel’s eye causing the man to collapse to the ground shouting in pain. “I cannot see!” He cried clutching his eye flinging his arms around.

“Try opening the other eye,” Dean said dryly, swallowing hard when Castiel turned his face contorted in rage. “Cas,” he started.

“Dean, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get you for this.” Castiel vowed pulling his own sword from the sheath. Dean bit his lip and turned and ran thanking his thinness for once as he legged it darting through the trees not looking back to the place where his childhood friendship lay in tatters once.


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins, Dean heads into the city to find Sam.
> 
> Warnings: Language, family member death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so horrendusly sorry that I haven't updated for ages but I've had GCSE's and massive writers block on this story but they're both over now so I'll try update soon.

> _"Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.”_  

 

Dean pushed the door of the Roadhouse open as he slipped in his head ducked low the cloak falling over his face. The wanted posters with his face scrawled badly all over them were all around town so he needed to stay hidden. That really got to him if they were going to claim that he was a Wanted criminal then they could at least draw him well. It was just offensive. He pushed his way easily through the crowds his self-confident body posture causing the crowds to part even if they couldn’t see who he was.

“Hello Sweetheart,” he drawled grinning cheekily as he slid onto the bar stool his eyes flying appreciatively over Jo’s figure in her too tight topped dress. He pushed his hood back far enough that she’d be able to tell who it was.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jo spun round her eyes blazing before spotting who it was, “I will kill you one day,” she swore glowering at him and stomping her foot childishly. Despite the high attraction that had ran between them originally, they’d easily fallen into a brother/sister relationship. Dean knew better than most people here that Jo’s childish stomp held a threat in it, her boot was just one of the multiple places where she kept the knives she liked to fight with. And boy could she fight with them. A man had tried to rape her outside the Roadhouse once and he hadn’t lived to tell the tale, Dean had disposed of his body for her in the forest. Moral of the story was you didn’t mess with Jo Harvelle, and if you thought messing with Jo was bad, messing with her mother Ellen was even worse.

“I’ll have some ale please,” Dean grinned leaning forward on the stool his green eyes glinting as he watched her through his lashes.

“Course but don’t be offended if I spit in it,” Jo replied sweetly blowing him a kiss as she grabbed a half clean mug and started to fill it with the bitter smelling liquid. “What’s you doing here at such a sketchy hour?” This was the question he’d been dreading, he’d originally been planning to just go straight ahead with the plan, but he’d backed out last minute and arrived here for a little liquid courage.

“I’m meeting Sammy,” he mumbled into his glass after she’d handed it to him, spit free thankfully and took a long swig.

Jo’s face hardened as she poured herself a drink and sat down opposite him, she was wearing that expression that he knew meant ‘tell me or I’ll chop off your balls.’ “I thought you were leaving him alone?” She sighed taking a long slug off her drink.

“Something came up,” Dean muttered into his drink pouting despite himself. His shoulder’s sagged as he felt the sadness over come him, he couldn’t handle all of this. He wasn’t ready for the responsibility it held.

Jo’s gaze softened and she understood without him needing to say anything else, “I’m so sorry,” she whispered clutching his hand in her own and squeezing. “When did it happen?”

“A couple of days ago,” Dean shrugged trying to seem nonchalant, he’d been trying to seem that way for years. He was a pro now.

“I’m sorry De-,” Jo cut herself off before she said his name and bit her lip as she nodded firmly sliding him another glass of ale that he hoped was going to be free as he was really low on money right now. Not that he ever had any money but this wasn’t the time. “Have you already-?” She started trailing out clearly unsure how to ask the question. He didn’t blame her though; it wasn’t really an easy thing to discuss at the best of times.

“Salted and burned,” Dean nodded, not meeting her eyes as he downed the drink in front of him and slamming the glass down on the table.

“Don’t get caught,” she grinned playfully.

He sent her a weak smile as he pulled the hood back over his face fully, glancing in the grubby mirror hanging on the wall he let out a groan. It was time to go revisit his little bro.

 

Dean wrinkled his nose as the over powering scent of herbs hit him as he carefully shut the door to Sammy’s new house behind him. He glanced around the simple place a proud father smile ghosting his features; he couldn’t believe his little brother was married with a wife. He’d never been introduced to Jessicaica but she was some kind of nurse who preferred natural remedies or something, Ellen had said the girl was a miracle worker though. Sam had managed to grab himself a position of a lawyer as he was one of the few literate people in the village. Dean was proud of him; he was really doing something with his life. He’d heard that Sam was the most unbiased lawyer around and if a commoner wanted to stand a chance at winning his trial he went to Sam. His grin grew slowly at that thought as he poked at some of the pots and pans hanging around the kitchen. Even if Sammy had dropped out of the rebellion due to claiming he wanted a normal life, he couldn’t fully cooperate with the system, the kid was just too much of a good person for that.

A grunt escaped him as he felt a fist connect with the side of his head. He staggered round retaliating automatically.

“Jeez,” he hissed when he realised who the attacker was. He flipped Sam onto floor by over balancing the large lump and pinning him underneath him.

“Dean?” Sam choked out, Dean let out a snicker as he hit Sam’s chest fondly.

“Man are you out of practice,” he started to laugh obnoxiously before the air left his lungs again as Sam flipped them. “I guess not,”

“You were saying?” Sam grinned goofily, a hint of his old childish innocence shining through for a second before it vanished as he jumped up heaving Dean to his feet and dusting himself off. “Why are you here Dean?”

“No love Sammy?” Dean sighed trying to prolong the truth for as long as he could. “Can’t I just want to check on my baby bro?” Sam glowered at him and rolled his eyes.

“You said you’d leave me alone,”

“Now that’s just rude,” Dean pouted crossing his arms and leaning against the wall lazily as he grinned at Sam who was still scowling. “Nice place you got here,” he nodded as he looked around taking in the place, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d lived in a house. Actually he could but that involved thinking about his mom, which he didn’t want to do.

“Sam?” A sleepy voice stirred both the brother’s out of their petty argument and Dean felt his grin grow wider as he stepped forward with his hand out.

“You must be Jessica, I’m-,”

“Dean Winchester,” the girl smiled slightly raising her eyebrows in amusement.

“The Posters?” Dean groaned in reply wrinkling his nose, Jessica nodded letting out a small giggle of amusement. Dean remembered why he was hear and straightened his shoulders automatically, his posture becoming ridged as the smile fell off his face. The perfect solider position. “Sammy Can I talk to you?” He asked glancing up at his brother through his lashes. He would never get over the fact that Sam was taller than him, it just didn’t make sense. The guy was just his goofy kid brother, he wasn’t meant to be some educated over grown man. It just wasn’t right.

“Anything you want to say can be in front of Jessica,” Dean nearly let out a whine at his brother’s stubbornness.

“Sam please,” he sighed his face softening; he didn’t want to do this in front of some girl he didn’t know even if she was Sam’s wife.

“No.”

Dean scowled and threw his hands up in the air before shoving his hands in the cloak pocket and glowering at the ground as if it was its fault that his brother was a dick.

“Dad’s dead,” he said finally. His met Sam’s eyes with a stony expression, “He was killed in a raid a couple of days ago.” He didn’t say why the real reason why John had died, the fact that Dean had been too dumb, he’d got himself caught by the Royals and John had died to save him. He’d caused a distraction got Dean out of there but not been able to save himself. Dean felt like his heart was made of lead or that someone had reached inside him and yanked it straight out his chest laughing as they did so. Every time he started to forget something would happen that would remind him and his world would spin rapidly on its axis again. He wasn’t ready for what his dad’s death meant; he wasn’t ready to accept the consequences. He was the new camp leader; it had been agreed last night. Bobby had put the thing to vote and a small part of him had prayed that he wouldn’t be accepted, that no one would really want him. But of course he had been accepted, he was a Winchester after all.

“Oh my God,” Sam moved backwards swaying slightly as he leaned on a chair for support; Dean was surprised the chair managed to hold the man’s weight. His kid brother was one heavy guy. “He’s gone?” Dean lifted his eyes to meet Sam’s and he swore he saw something snap in the kid, gone was the over grown man and replaced was the little boy that Dean had known so well. He nodded weakly, and Sam swallowed nervously, “So you’re?” He moved his head slightly clearly not able to form the words.

“Head of the camp?” Dean finished, nodding again, “Yep,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I know it’s a lot to ask Sammy but please I can’t do it alone, I need your help.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed and Dean noticed Jessica reach out and squeeze his hand.

“Please come back Sammy,” Dean begged his face contorting with frustration, he couldn’t do it alone. He needed Sam and his brains to help him.

“I left for a reason,”

“Please,”

Jessica stepped forward her fingers still entwined with Sam’s and turned to face her husband, “I think you should go,” she said softly reaching up and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I’ll even come with you,” she promised, he could tell she was staring into Sam’s and having never been that good with intimate moments Dean took a step back feeling awkward. He let them have their deep whispered chat in piece but when Sam started to eat her face he felt inclined to remind them of his presence with the obnoxious clearing of his throat.

He sent them a shit eating grin when they both turned around to glare at him. “So we going or not?”

“We’re going,” Sam nodded before leading Jessica upstairs to pack. Dean lounged around downstairs helping himself to some of their bread, gagging slightly as he attempted a sip of Sam’s ale. That was disgusting. “We’re ready.” Sam said solemnly slinging a couple of leather bags filled with their necessities over his shoulder. Dean sent him a small smile in thanks, and they set out.

They walked through the city heads bent low as the torches caused shadows to stalk across the walls tauntingly, the light offering them no comfort at all as it just increased the possibilities of being caught. When they reached the wood Dean felt his heart start to slow down, this was his territory. His walk returned to its usual saunter and he chatted merrily to Sam and Jess as they walked along finding out what had been happening in their lives. Though a lot he had to admit it was a lot less intense to what he was used to.

“Dean!” Dean grinned as Benny pulled him in for a hug when they walked back in camp, most people were asleep in tents but the fire was still glowing warmly as a few people milled around chatting merrily and other’s stood hidden by the leafy trees on guard duty.

“Sam!” Victor appeared grinning and clapped Sam on the back, “It’s nice to see you again,”

Sam smiled slightly goofily and Dean knew he was remembering all the good times spent at the camp, even if they moved around in the wood, it was the atmosphere and the people not the location that made it home.

“Do my ears fool me or do I hear the sound of two Winchester boys again?” Sam let out a loud laugh as Missouri came out of her tent grinning with Bobby behind her. “Now tell me kiddo did you use witch magic to get a girl this gorgeous?” She cooed smiling at Jessica and tugging on her arm leading her away from Sam talking nonstop as she did so. Jessica shot an amused glance over her shoulder as she followed Missouri.

“Welcome home Sammy,” Dean grinned clapping his brother on the back and heading over to where Bobby was standing there grim faced. “Why the grumpy face?” He pouted teasingly; glad to be able to relax again now that he was home in camp.

Bobby beckoned him to follow and he shouted for Sam to join them, Bobby led them through the crowd of people, the camp seemed to be really alive which was a change from the sombre vibe it had held for the last couple of days after John’s death.

“Look what the night guards stumbled across,” Dean froze as he took in the sight in front of him. Tied to the large oak tree was a man and woman, they were slumped over probably due to some sort of herbal remedy. Even ten years later he’d recognise that mop of dark hair anywhere, his old friend turned enemy had grown up even more over the years.

“The Prince and Princess,” Sam whispered in awe.

“Cas,” Dean choked out backing away slightly as he glanced around rapidly before glancing back at the pair to meet a pair of icy blue eyes illuminated by the glowing embers.

“Hello Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think I hope you liked it so far, I promise to update soon!!!


	4. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wahoo Dean and Cas meet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been ages I know, I am a shitty person but if this gets a good review I promise I will try update more frequenty. I hope you all enjoy it and please do let me know

> Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection. - Arthur Schopenhauer

Dean’s heart thundered and his mouth went dry, he hadn’t forgotten Cas’ threat all those ten years ago when they were just fourteen, but the ball was in his court this time. Cas was stripped of weapons, weakened with one of Lisa’s remedies, and tied to a tree surrounded by a load of people who hated him.

Dean could feel both Sam and Bobby’s eyes trained on him, and he shifted uncomfortably under the force of their curiosity. He was supposed to make the order with what to do with the two of them: cut off a head and send it to the King as a message? Offer them as a ransom? Threaten to kill them unless they spilled their brother’s secrets? He didn’t know. This was Cas. At the end of the day, this was Cas. It wasn’t some prince that he loathed it was his Cas.

The firelight caused shadows to dance around, sliding over the trees mockingly as they were able to vanish from sight unlike him. The golden fire allowed those blue eyes to burn as the thin-lipped mouth stared out at them all in distain.

“What do we with them?” Benny asked, stepping forward as a gentle reminder that Dean had to say something. Anything.

Dean tried to find words, his lips forming nothing but soundless shapes as he stared out at the man in front of him. It was his Cas. Cas was books, innocence and snark. He hated the weakness this brought upon him the hesitation of his tongue, and the dryness of his throat.

“How did you catch them?” Dean asked finally, swallowing down the lump in his throat and turning away from those eyes of ice and fire.

Benny wrinkled his nose, and pursed his lips in a manner that told Dean he wouldn’t like the news. “Bela Talbot let us know they were wandering around alone.” Benny had been correct Dean didn’t like the news. Bela Talbot was the most insufferable woman he had ever met, she was a thief, a liar, and her wicked words could be sold for the highest bidder.

“I hate her,” Dean muttered under his breath freezing as a silky smooth drawl sounded from near by.

“Now I know you don’t mean that Dean.” The sugary accent dripped thick from wherever in the group of people Bela was standing.

He glowered at Benny and pouted, he did not need this. Cas and Bela was a lot more than he could cope with. What cruel twist of fate stuck him with both of these demons? At least Sam was home, that was a positive.

Running a hand through his dirty blonde hair, he spun back around to find the Princess starting to stir as well now.

“I can knock them out again if you’d like?” Gordon grinned maliciously, the snake like smile spreading over his lips and his eyes burning with hatred as he regarded the pair.

“Now Gordon, there’s no need to scare our guests,” Sam said softly, his voice echoing around the clearing. Gordon shifted in irritation, and Dean spotted a couple of other men scowl at the command Sam’s voice carried but he was a Winchester after all, and Sam was breath, fire and heart.

Dean sent his brother a thankful nod as he stepped forward making sure all his men’s eyes were on him. He tried not to think what Cas thought of him; he’d grown up since they last saw each other. He was no longer long legs, and skinny shoulders. He’d broadened out, his jaw line had hardened and his face had lost the feminine innocence it used to carry.

“Your highnesses,” Dean bowed mockingly, painting a sneer onto his face and relishing as his men laughed around him. He needed to make sure they didn’t suspect something; to them Dean hated this Prince as much as they all did. “What do we owe the privilege of welcoming you into our humble home?” He laughed, hands up in the air as a cheer erupted from his men.

“Is it your wit that allowed you to become the leader of such a band of idiots? I suppose it doesn’t take much to amuse people with this level of IQ,” Castiel shot back, a piece of dark hair flopping out of place and into his eye. Dean poked his tongue into his cheek to stop a grin spreading over his face, the fact that the palace hadn’t beaten Castiel’s feisty side out of him made him happy. Call him nostalgic.

A loud shout rose up and people started to jostle forward, all eager to repay the Prince for all the favours the Royal family had bestowed on them over the years.

“I’ll kill him!”

A loud, piercing whistle shattered their cries and they all turned to stare at Dean who’s fingers where resting in his mouth, he dropped them with a shrug turning to follow the noise and grinning crookedly as everyone’s gaze followed his to meet Sam standing tall and proud.

Sam said nothing but stood there, Jess hovering just behind him, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. The echoing respect that Sam had just commanded with a simple whistle was awe inspiring, distrust and resentment tinged that respect from certain members but that was understandable. Sam had left, Sam had been a Winchester and left. No one could forget the argument that had erupted the day Sam left it was burnt onto the camps mind. For a while the leftovers from that fight had been burnt onto Dean’s body.

“Thanks Sammy,” Dean grinned breaking the silence and clapping his brother on the back fondly. “Now, Castiel and Anna as I was saying it’s an honour to finally meet you two,” something flashed through Cas’ eyes briefly, but then they returned to solid burning ice.

“Likewise,” Castiel sneered in response. Dean hated the fact Castiel knew it was a power play of Dean’s to pretend he hadn’t met Castiel, and he certainly hated that Castiel would click that that meant Dean didn’t trust his men to accept the truth. He hated how Castiel had always been ruthlessly smart.

“Have they been stripped of weapons?” Turning to face Benny again who nodded and reported they were both clean.

“Set them up in a tent and guard it,” Dean commanded turning and starting to walk off.

“Leadership gone to your head Dean?” He paused as Cas’ soft words floated tauntingly throughout the camp. “Won’t even do the dirty work now?”

Dean swung around and pushed the just untied Prince up against the tree, his hand gripping tightly on the man’s throat, Cas let out a splutter and squeezed his hand around Dean’s upper arm, clutching with all his worth. Dean bit down on his lip, it felt as if Cas was burning him or something but he couldn’t show the pain he was in.

“Show me some respect,” Dean sneered, green eyes meeting blue. Cas’ eyes flashed with some sort enthral power that had Dean drop him and take a step back rapidly in panic. It was just the fire he was being stupid. Cas had just heightened his emotions. “Take them away, we’ll question them tomorrow.” He murmured flicking his hand at Benny who nodded and commanded people to help him sort the Royals out for the night.

“Dean,” he waved Sam off, trying to ignore the blinding pain from where Cas had gripped him.

“I’ll speak to you later Sammy,” he promised as he strode head high over to Missouri’s deserted tent. Slipping inside he tugged up his sleeve and stuffed his fist in his mouth to contain the gasp that tried to slip out of his throat. His skin had bubbled, and risen in a red mark. Not just any mark though, on his upper arm the flesh had risen in the shape of Cas’ hand.

What the hell was going on?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do y'all think of the idea of magic!Cas? It will fit into the plot I promise!!!


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wahoo camp life and still little destiel interaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my christmas present to everyone, the fact I've started this fic again. And it actually has a plot now!! Wahoo  
> Hope you all enjoyed your christmas and enjoy the next chapter

> “When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it--always.” - [Mahatma Gandhi](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5810891.Mahatma_Gandhi)

 

Dean played idly with a piece of rope winding it around his finger as he gazed with dead eyes at the forest floor. Gordon’s grating voice lashed at his ears as he argued with every point put across, Bobby and Benny tried to counteract his points with one of logic and reason, but the chance for revenge was rippling in waves across the men, spreading and gaining force as the meeting went on. Dean had chosen his best and most loyal for this meeting, but unfortunately his some of his best were also the most passionate and thus not. Sam sat in silence having the common sense to not speak up too much. He may be a Winchester, but he’d abandoned the cause and that didn’t sit well with a few of the men.

“We need to send the King a message!” Gordon spat. “We’ve been waiting for the opportunity to show him that we mean business and here it is!”

Dean rubbed his hand across his face and chewed on his bottom lip as he glowered at a leaf on the ground, wishing he could be anywhere but here right now. Fingers brushed over the brown fabric of his thin shirt, the handprint still burning cold on his arm. He’d debated going to Lisa and asking her to try fix it up a bit so it didn’t scar, but he didn’t know how to explain how he had a hand mark frozen onto his arm. The skin had continued to bubble last night had only just started to calm down, it hurt like fucking hell. The other question Dean had, was how had Castiel done it?

Magic had been outlawed so many years ago that that was impossible, and even if few people still had magic the royal family wouldn’t. They were the ones who had outlawed magic, Missouri used to tell them the tales as children. John hadn’t liked then, too much nonsense.

But Missouri had spun tales and her words had floated through the air painting bright pictures of times when fae and man walked the land together, when healers had access to magic and could do so much good. Of the Seelie and the Unseelie courts who had ruled the forests, and the rumours of what had become of them.

“John would have sent them a message,” Gordon’s words cut through Dean’s daydream like an icy blade and suddenly he was back at the table, spine straight, shoulders squared, and jaw clenched as he gazed at Gordon through steady green eyes. A heavy silence fell over the meeting as they remembered their previous leader; Dean pushed away the image of his father’s body torn limb from limb. Michael had granted him no kind death.

“John rest his soul isn’t here,” Bobby’s calming voice shifted the silence and Dean felt all the eyes fall on him.

“And?” Gordon shrugged lazily, his eyes burning with passion. He truly believed what he was saying. He truly thought the Prince and Princess should pay because of what their brother and ancestors had done. “You know John’s rule shoot first, ask questions later.” Dean swallowed and spotted Sam’s body tensing out of the corner of his eye.

“Well maybe Dean’s a better man than his father ever was!” Bobby argued back as yelling broke out, and as much as Dean wanted to swear at them all for acting like idiots he couldn’t so he did the only thing he could do. He acted like a leader.

“Enough!” His voice cracked like a whip across the table. Pushing himself to his feet and glaring out at everyone he waited until the tension had diffused out of the group until he spoke. “We’re going to speak to them and find out why they were so far out of their way at night. Missouri should be able to tell if they’re lying, as we all know from experience she’s good at that,” a ripple of laughter throughout the group as they all had been caught lying to Missouri at one time or another. “And then we’ll decide where to go from there.” He let a wicked grin grow across his face, “And if I elect to send Michael a message after this, then we’ll send him a message!” He smirked, “Then we’ll send him a message he can’t ignore!” A roar sounded and Dean sat back down satisfied with how that had gone.

“Now onto the day to day business,” Benny interrupted the cheering, his eyes wide and face flushed. Dean grinned over at his second and leaned back his hands clasped behind his head. He let Benny read out the jobs they’d allocated for the day and the way people would alternate for the next couple of days, he only added a comment where he saw it fit.

Benny was a good second, he would have prefferd to have his brother but Sam had left them. Benny was a gruff guy with a heart of gold and he was often the moral compass of them. He was a tall white man, a few years older than Dean, broad with a fuzzy beard and a Southern drawl. His intimidating impression didn’t last much longer than when the man giggled.

His brother’s cry of “Dean,” spun him out of his thought process as he walked out of the meeting tent.

“Sammy,” he responded quirking an eyebrow to his brother as Sam fell into step beside him.

“I’m on wood collecting duty,” Sam repeated and Dean glanced over at him waiting for him to go on. He knew this might happen.  Sam thinned his lips and raised his eyebrows as he continued. “Dean, I grew up in this camp! I’ve been here longer than half the guys here and I’m stuck on wood duty like some newbie or kid?” Sam’s chin was tilted up as he glowered down at Dean.

“You left Sammy, and I can’t just put you back in up top.” Dean shrugged in response, barking out a command to Garth as he walked past. The scrawny man yelped as he dropped the sword he was carrying before laughing to himself as he picked it up and walked off again. “People weren’t happy when you left kiddo, dad wasn’t happy when you left,” something flashed through Sam’s eyes and Dean sighed. “Look if you stay and prove you’re loyal to the camp and cause; they’ll forget about it in a second, but until they believe you’re one of them again. Keep your head down and don’t push it.” He clapped the taller man on the shoulder with an apologetic grin before striding off he had to find Missouri.

Missouri was in her tent as usual, and the place smelt of herbs and whatever strange things she got up to in there. After many years of bugging her as a kid and being told to fuck off, Dean chose not to question what she got up to in there.

He grinned up at the older lady and pushed aside a string of crystals that nearly hit him in the head.

“Don’t touch my stuff boy!” He held up his hands flashing her an innocent look. “You want me to come help you talk to the royals?”

“If you’re willing,” he laughed winking at her as she battered him around the head fondly.

“So that’s your Castiel,”

His jaw clenched as he shrugged trying to ignore the fact that Missouri had been the only one in camp who knew about his friendship with the Prince. How she’d told him it wouldn’t last. How she’d been right.

“No,” he shook his head firmly, “The guy I knew vanished a while back.” She smiled knowingly at him in that infuriating way that made him want to punch a tree before he mumbled something about speaking to them now and scampering out the tent.

They were sat on a log in the centre guarded, Gordon skulked around in front of them his face changing between snarling at them one second and lighting up with joy as he cracked out another sarcastic remark.

Castiel and Anna, he couldn’t help but admire as they sat their heads raised and faces blank of all emotion. There wasn’t fear painted across their features, there was nothing there but strength and a refusal to show weakness. Dean admired that.

“Lay off Gordon,” he laughed with a wave of his hand as he arrived standing in front of the pair people gathering behind him. “Keep working people, this camp doesn’t work by itself.” He laughed merrily sending Sam a firm nod, his brother scowled and sulked off to go gather wood. Jess was sitting with a couple of others cleaning the pots and preparing vegetables. However unlike her husband she had a dainty smile upon her face and chatted and laughed, drinking in the new experience. He’d need to get Jess trained up if they were going to stay for long, he’d see if Ellen would let Jo stay for a while.

“Aren’t your dogs trained well,” Anna cooed mockingly. There was a scrape across her high cheekbone that Lisa had probably tried to heal the best she could, and her red hair looked as if she had been dragged through a thorn bush but there was still a regal beauty radiating from her. “Down boy,” she smirked meeting Gordon’s eyes cold and steady. “You’ve got to look dogs in the eye to show them whose boss.” She informed her brother. The corner of Castiel’s mouth tugged up a little bit at his sister’s words.

Dean yelled at Gordon as the bigger man leapt at the Princess and had to be restrained by Benny and a couple of others.

“You’re on our turf now bitch,” Gordon spat as Dean snapped at him.

“I will put you on cooking duty for two months and beat you so hard you’re seeing stars for double that if you don’t shut up!” Dean sighed, clenching his jaw as he glowered at Gordon. He was going to kill him one day. Gordon glowered, his chin jutted out as the vein in his forehead pulsed. “Thank you,” he smirked before turning to the Royals. “So what were you two doing wandering the forests at night?”

Castiel sighed and glowered at his sister who stared up at Dean for a moment before answering.

“Believe it or not I have reasons for being here,” Anna responded evenly; Castiel’s jaw clenched in irritation and his squinty eyes squinted more. Dean waved his hand for her to go on and hushed the rebels with a glare to allow her to speak without interruptions. “I don’t believe in the way my brother or family rule,” well that was all it took for silence to fall over the camp.

However one call of “She’s bullshitting!” And everyone was yelling again. Dean tried to ignore Castiel’s judging look as he attempted to command peace in the camp again.

He let out a loud whistle and glowered at the camp despising the smugness on Castiel’s face. Stupid bastard, daring to be so smug when he was fucking held hostage. Dean wished he could say he’d been the same when the palace had taken him, but he couldn’t. Coward.

“Missouri,” he summoned, biting down on his bottom lip as the elder shoved her way through the crowd with pointed elbows until she was right in front of the Princess.

Missouri smiled a heart felt smile at the red haired girl, “Don’t let their big masculinity fool you, they’re all sweet hearts really.

Dean started to pout but forced his face into a serious expression when he felt Castiel’s eyes on him.

Missouri reached out and cupped Anna’s face, ebony and ivory skin contrasting in the light. Castiel wasn’t watching Dean now; the force of those sapphires was directed on Missouri as if he could tear her apart in just a blink if she hurt Anna.

“She’s telling the truth. She was looking for you Dean.” Missouri’s face lit up and her chocolate eyes gleamed as her eyes searched Anna’s hazel ones. “She wanted to join us.” There was no cheer everyone was shocked into silence; even Gordon just frowned in confusion. Missouri was never wrong about this, but right now they didn’t understand how she could be right?

Dean rubbed the back of his head, tongue caught between his lips. He could feel the weight of people’s eyes on him waiting for him to say something. Waiting for them to lead him. He’d only been elected two nights ago; he didn’t know how to do this! He was a foot solider. He was no leader.

“And him,” he murmured, chewing relentlessly on his bottom lip as he nodded towards Castiel wordlessly asking Missouri to check him out. A part of him prayed Castiel had come to find him as well, but that was foolish. The people he cared about didn’t come back.

“What are you a witch?” Castiel spat blue eyes flashing as his face contorted itself as he flinched away from Missouri.

“Don’t you dare address her in that manner!” Benny growled. Dean placed his hand on his second’s shoulder and squeezed. Anyone else and he would have let Benny fly, but this was Cas.

“Don’t worry child,” Missouri cooed stepping forward with a kind smile, “I aint going to reveal your secrets to the big bad people in front of you. I just want to know your intentions.” Castiel didn’t relent but in the end he was forced, face twisted into an ugly glower as Missouri cupped his chin with her hand. “He followed his sister to keep her safe and he was trying to convince her to return to the palace with him when they were jumped.”

“So is he safe?” Dean glanced over to where Sam’s voice had carried and scowled, he’d told Sam to lay low. Listening in to this conversation that only involved his select people, wasn’t wood duty.

“He won’t bring any harm to his sister, but whereas Anna we can welcome into camp as one of us. He should be under a guard.”

“There’s a reason my family band magic!” Castiel spat.

“Yeah cause your all a bunch of dicks,” came a mocking reply from somewhere in camp, and Dean stifled a grin at the look of outrage on Castiel’s face.

Dean chewed on his lip again and rubbed his head thoughtfully, “How well trained are you?” He asked nodding his head at Anna.

Anna smiled in a cat like manner and met his eyes, “Michael never allowed for me to be trained to fight. He claimed it was unfeminie and unattractive to males.” The way her lips curled suggested she begged to differ, and Dean had to agree.

“Right well as we all know your brother speaks a load of crap, I’ll call in Jo as both you and Jess will need training up. Even if you don’t want to fight, I’m not letting you out there until you can hold your own.” He declared turning and summoning Aaron who nodded and scurried off to the Roadhouse with Dean’s message. He turned to Castiel and met his eyes he wouldn’t be affected. “Rufus will be escorting you around camp, and you’ll be on food preparation duty until either we send you back to your brother or you decide the King is shitty.” He commanded. He heard Rufus let out a groan and the older man glowered at him in jest as he trudged over to the Prince.

The sunlight sprinkled through the trees and dust particles floated in the morning air, as men and women who were definitely not doing the jobs Dean had assigned them stared at the meeting. Dean called Charlie over to get Anna dressed into something more suitable for the woods, and asked Rufus to attempt to get Castiel out of his very pretty clothes, as they didn’t want to find themselves on the block as they’d got the Prince’s clothes dirty. Castiel hadn’t found that one very funny.

Dean clapped his hands and turned away from Castiel to address the camp with a playful grin. “Everyone has things to be doing, come on the world didn’t stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments to make me feel loved <3


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